“I thought he was fine”: The words still haunt Elsie Alex-Tanner, 43, a mother of four from Ocala. Her teenage son’s best friend died by suicide in July.
Nobody told Alex-Tanner, the crisis intervention specialist for the nonprofit Marion Senior Services, that he had mentioned suicide before, she said.
Giving away possessions or getting quiet are common traits among those who die by suicide. In this case, the 26-year-old did something different. He sent text messages.
“He told a lot of people who were important to him he loved them in the middle of the night,” Alex-Tanner said. “His final words.”
The next morning, July 16, as Alex-Tanner was driving home while on the phone with her mother, her sister called asking if she was OK. Alex-Tanner was confused, which quickly led to panic until her sister finally delivered the news. In disbelief, Alex-Tanner hung up the phone and immediately called her son. Was it true? His confirmation led her to tears.
The young man she considered one of her “babies” was gone.
“I started hysterically crying,” Alex-Tanner recalled. “I was crying the whole day,”
The Marion County Zero Suicide Summit was recently held at the Harvey R. Klein Conference Center in Ocala. The nonprofit LSF Health Systems organized it to address the county’s growing suicide rate, which is 25% and 30%above the state and national averages, respectively.
Zero Suicide,an initiative created in 2012, focuses on training people to recognize the signs someone is struggling with suicidal thoughts and getting them the resources they need.
The summit’s keynote speaker, Kevin Briggs, 63, is a retired sergeant from the California Highway Patrol. On the job, Briggs spoke to first responders about the power of listening. He personally has talked more than 200 people out of jumping from the Golden Gate Bridge. That may sound impressive to some, but he asserts one notion:
“I never say I saved anyone. I say I helped them during a dark time.”
Briggs said he noticed that when people are in so much emotional pain, they don’t see the full scope of their life. They view jumping as a means toward peace. His advice to them: “Put yourself on top, and don’t be afraid to take care of yourself and your family first.”
Briggs described the bridge as a cold, horrible place filled with traffic; still, he encountered four-to-six people a month trying to take their life on it.
For Briggs, the power of listening allowed him to connect with the person trying to jump.
It is also why he named his summit session “The Power of Listening.” He said he stresses this trait of being present with people – and not telling them what they should have done – to allow a behavioral change to take place within them.
Briggs said he takes them to the hospital for a mental health evaluation; however, he doesn’t follow up afterwards.
“It’s a dark day,” he said. “They probably would want to forget.”
Vernon Phillips, 43, Director of Marion County Sheriff’s Office Chaplain and Peer Services, said he created the nonprofit, Critical Aspects, to help those in law enforcement struggling with their mental health receive the help that they need.
“The more we talk about it, the more we can address it and shift the average and dynamic that is there,” Phillips said. “Anytime someone takes their life, it should cause us to pause.”
The signs can be different depending on the person at risk of suicide, said Jennifer Martinez, the executive director of Marion Senior Services.
Martinez said she tries to help when her caregivers worry about their households, finances, health and loved ones, all while providing well-rounded care.
“It’s overwhelming, the need we have in the community,” she said. Though, for her, the biggest issue is, “people not listening or recognizing each other.”
Martinez said her primary message is letting others in the community know that reaching out for support should not be burdensome.
“They’re not alone,” she said. “Asking for help isn’t a sign of weakness, but a sign of strength.”
Alex-Tanner said she almost didn’t sign up for the summit because she had never encountered suicide.
As it turns out, she signed up on July 16, before she had even heard the news. In hindsight, she is glad she attended.
“Talking about it, I’m trying to fight back tears,” she said. “I feel hurt and heartbroken … He looked totally normal. [He] was well-groomed, nicely dressed and hung out with his friends.”
Alex-Tanner said she posted on social media the day after the suicide the hotline number 988, so others who are struggling can reach out for help. That way, if someone she loves or knows doesn’t want to call her, they have another source of support.
The experience has taught Alex-Tanner to value every moment with her loved ones — to treat every moment as if it were the last. “Cherish it,” she said.